Marked
by ranchozabaco
Summary: Scars tell stories. Some of them we would rather not be told.


She had always thought it would be between only the two of them, as if it was some intimate act shared with the Dark Lord. She had also assumed that it would be a quick process, like a burn or the sting of a wasp. But realistically, she would have been better off never speculating about it at all.

An early sunset had painted the sky pink and orange when she approached the pub. Winter was coming quicker than she liked, the grass lying low and yellow and the trees all but bare. She could smell stew and garlic and old beer, and the prospect of a good meal brought a smile to the corners of her mouth. The air inside the pub was welcomingly warm and almost damp, and she was appreciative of the healthy Wednesday crowd. Alecto took a table in the corner rather than a barstool, and settled in to wait.

Five minutes later she was quietly inhaling the spread before her: a mug of dark beer, dense bread and a hunk of cheese, and the stew that had found her nose all the way from the street. Alecto ate as if she hadn't seen food in weeks, and her stomach began to fill. By the time the first of her companions arrived, she was picking faithfully at the dark bread. She smirked as the man seated himself.

"You should really try a bowl of this stuff Severus. It's much better than the sum of its parts. I'm thinking voodoo," she murmured. Expectedly, his face remained rigid. His hair was getting too long. He looked a bit shabbier than the usual. They stared at each other for a few moments.

"I don't know why we couldn't talk at my place. Merlin knows it's big enough."

"Alecto, you won't be going home tonight," Snape replied in an unfamiliar tone. He almost sounded concerned. She scoffed at him, taking a sip of her drink.

"A Mark and a slumber party! Sev, I'm honored. You want to share a sleeping bag?" she laughed softly, "You want a drink? They have wine, I know you like that…"

He let out a long breath and sat back. Alecto cocked her head to the side as she examined the man across the table. Snape was looking her in the eye, which was a bit unsettling. He opened his mouth slightly but said nothing. Alecto sat up a bit straighter and dropped her mocking tone, suddenly curious.

"Snape, what aren't you telling me?"

"This is not a navel piercing, Alecto-

"I didn't know you knew about that, Severus," she interrupted, laughing. He glared at her and continued.

"You were chosen to receive this. The Dark Lord expects you to approach this with a bit more…thought," Severus Snape spoke very quietly in the pub, highly aware of the crowd, but she felt every syllable as if he had written it upon her skin. Alecto nodded, sucking down a great mouthful of beer. She could see something like worry in his eyes. Then a new thought popped into her head: was Severus here to prepare her, or only to berate her about her place in the ranks, her sex, her youth, or her supposed inability to devote herself to their mutual cause, as he had before. She was wary of his presence for a moment. And then-

"Crouch will not be there tonight. Neither will Evan Rosier."

Her mouth was suddenly dry and bitter as if there was an aspirin sitting on her tongue. Why would she be denied her closest friend, or her lover? And if Barty and Evan weren't allowed to be 'there', who was? And-

"Why?"

He did not answer, but picked up her mug and sipped at her beer. Alecto did not press him, for she figured that he had been sworn to silence. She tried another spoonful of the stew, chewing on a potato and his words.

"How long have you had it, Sev?" she asked, tapping the hem his left sleeve with her fingertip. The tiniest smile found its way on her lips as he answered:

"Years. You were sweating over Strengthening Solutions down in my dungeon, I'm sure."

"In my dungeon," she repeated loftily, "that sounds so inappropriate, Professor. And it was Slughorn's dungeon back then, not yours, which makes for an even more horrifying image in my brain. Thank you for that, Severus," her chatter was enough to warrant a smirk from him. Perhaps even a smile.

"But you'll be there tonight?" Alecto asked softly, her hand still near his. He searched her face for a moment.

"I will."

x x x x x

"You don't need those," Lucius Malfoy told her dryly as soon as Amycus brought her down to the basement, which was little more than a dungeon with a flagstone floor. It took her a moment to understand what Malfoy meant. He wanted her to remove her shoes. Alecto's eyes had adjusted to the light and met the figures of Thorfinn Rowle, Marcus Avery and Sirius Black's little brother stood, talking among themselves and shivering.

She was surprised to see Regulus in the Riddle House; she knew that he was loyal to the Dark Lord, but he was awfully young. Regulus was a year behind her at Hogwarts and home for winter holidays, his graduation only a few months ahead. Alecto would have assumed that Black was given the same instructions as herself: learn as much as possible, keep the Dark Lord's name out of conversation, and come back after leaving school. But Regulus Black was in his basement, with a puzzled look on his face not unlike the one across her own.

Her attention was pulled away from the young dark man as Amycus took her arm and led her to the expansive, heavy-looking wooden table standing near the back of the room. The chairs had been taken away; it was something like an examination table now. She hopped up obligingly, kicking off her boots. Lucius had followed them over and wordlessly helped her out of the black cloak. Alecto shivered and rolled up her sleeve, but Lucius stopped her.

"You won't need that either."

Alecto knitted her brow and looked up at Malfoy, expecting him to laugh. Glancing past him, she noticed she had all the sudden garnered the attention of all three men. Of course. Shrugging, she unbuttoned the powder blue oxford and dropped it onto the shale floor near her cloak and shoes. Malfoy had a clinical look on his face and Alecto suspected stripping her had something to do with making her uncomfortable.

She was caught off guard as Amycus knocked her lightly on the arm. She looked up to him expectantly and found her brother with a hesitant smile on his face.

"No worries, little sister. You know how things work, all pomp and ceremony. Just lay back- he'll be down in a minute."

Amycus tried to laugh but was unconvincing. Letting out a great sigh, Alecto pulled her hair down about her shoulders and fell back on the table, slightly irritated.

x x x x x

Severus did not keep his word. It was a few hours before dawn and the air was terribly cold and almost damp.

Alecto felt naked in spite of her trousers and silk camisole. Silk was supposed to insulate the body, but she quivered slightly. She wanted her shirt back, her cloak, her shoes. She wondered about Barty and Evan. Did they feel like this when they received their Marks? Alecto couldn't remember what they had told her about the experiences. Did it happen here, in the sublevel of the Riddle house?

A pair of torches was the only source of light in the room, just enough light to ensure that no one would trip over each other. Five men stood around her, examining her as casually as one might a fish in a pond, but no one spoke in her direction. Lucius Malfoy caught her eye for a moment that felt like an hour and she threw up her hands in exasperation, but he just turned back to Avery. It was a small crowd, Alecto thought. But she wasn't exactly a favorite among the Knights, or very important even, so really she shouldn't have expected a standing room only audience. A knot of anxiety formed in her stomach, spreading through her body like poison.

It seemed as if she had been lying on that table or days by the time footsteps started down the stairs. She turned with the rest of the men to see if it was just another spectator, but she was relieved to see the Dark Lord stroll into the room. Rabastan Lestrange entered behind him. She smiled, for she and the younger Lestrange shared a kind of silent camaraderie, and surely Voldemort wouldn't cut her into tiny bits or anything too terrible in front of him. Probably.

"Alecto," her Master's voice was low and rumbling and almost inviting, and she sat up at mention of her name. He strode past the others and stood before her. Alecto felt silly, barefoot and in her underwear, as if he were about to give her a physical. She didn't respond except a quiet greeting.

"You know that not all that serve our cause wear our Mark. It is earned. And you have demonstrated great skill," Voldemort began what she was sure would turn into a speech. Something in her wanted to laugh.

"-and devotion. If you are willing, I will give you the Dark Mark now, here."

"I am willing, My Lord," she murmured. A hint of a smile was on his lips. He went on, about how important it was to be unwavering in 'their' cause, to keep fighting, assuring that she was on the winning team. Amycus was right about the pomp and ceremony. She was surprised there was no saber waving involved. At some point, she was told that the men standing about her were there to serve to witness her induction and to keep her accountable to her commitment. And then, for the first time, Voldemort looked her straight in the eye.

"Are you sure you want this, girl?"

Yes, she replied, so quickly it was almost rude. He pushed her back onto the table and her breath left her and for a moment Alecto wasn't sure what he was doing. Then the spell started, words leaving his mouth that she couldn't understand or even hear quickly. Jagged, hot pain began to cut across her arm as if someone had thrust a dagger down to the very bone, and a sharp cry escaped her throat. Again her sense of time left her almost completely, and she wasn't sure how many seconds or minutes or hours he held her down. At some point his hand left her chest and Alecto sat up again, her vision blurry with tears. Amycus and Black looked shocked, even a bit concerned, but the others seemed unaffected.

Alecto dared herself to look down at the brand on her arm. It was shining black, like shoe polish, and she was bleeding alright. Blood dripped onto her trousers and the table below her. The border around the shining skull looked as if it had been cut into her with an awl. She was wordless and breathing hard.

"Congratulations. I'll see you for breakfast, Carrow. You prefer coffee to tea if I remember correctly," said the Dark Lord and she nodded, a little stunned. Alecto managed to find her feet and pulled on her cloak, forgoing her shirt and shoes. It hurt as the wool of her sleeve dragged past the Mark, but it was still as painful as when it had begun. When she stood she felt acutely nauseous.

Voldemort took his leave and she walked past the rest of her clothes, headed upstairs. Just before he disappeared up the steps, he looked to the Black boy.

"If she can take it so can you, Regulus."

Alecto pushed Amycus ahead of her and nodded at the congratulatory parting words of Rowle, Avery and Malfoy. She met the eyes of Regulus Black and understood several things at once. He had been brought to the Manor not because he was special, but to bully him into joining their ranks more permanently. Her friends had been denied to see her because it would have made the whole experience more bearable, and Voldemort wanted her too feel alone in her ordeal. She would be punished by her 'witnesses,' all of whom were coincidentally some of Voldemort's trusted and lethal foot soldiers, if she strayed from the path chosen for her. And she wanted to vomit.

The one thing she could not explain was why Severus Snape had defaulted on his promise to accompany her. Numbly, she wandered up two flights of stairs to the room she had been assigned. It was typical of the manor, all velvet and dark wood and gold leaf. She decided that, for tonight, it would do, and immediately headed for the bed. It was then she noticed someone else had definitely been in the same room earlier. Three glass vials with watercolor liquid were carefully placed on the middle of the bed, a scrap of parchment peeking out from below. She lit the sconces flanking the bed and sat down to read the note. Alecto did not recognize the hasty, spindly handwriting.

_One is for the pain. Another to soothe your stomach. The third will grant you the deepest sleep. I suggest you take them immediately; they will not counteract. Go to Rabastan if you need anything._

_Severus_

For tonight, it was enough.


End file.
